Nassy Fesharaki Poems

Pan Am 103

"Sleeve, eat, sleeve, eat, "
Said mullah…
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Fur

She is Jew, I, Muslim
In Moscow, Vancouver.
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Night walk

Not yet five, was too dark
And I, needed to walk…
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Refugee

The movie am making
Is about refugee…
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Pope

For me go to the Pope,
Call him "Poop."
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The king’s Poet

“Your Royal Majesty
Even moon, crescent
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Old boys’ club

Bitterest, doubtlessly comes of our sweetest
Imagine loss of the sweet love, to unknown,
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If it was…

Why not us be honest?
At least I, you are dead
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Let me be discovered

Bob Dylan and Neil Young
The mountains’ Avalanche
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Race to the Bottom

God, this toy that man made
As some say; was great.
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